Roses are Blooming
by GingerWitchWriter
Summary: Hermione is becoming increasingly frustrated towards the end of her pregnancy and Ron is going mental with the hormonal mood swings of his wife...will either of them survive this and will it all be worth it in the end? Rated T for some language and adult suggestions.
1. Chapter 1

I decided that this one was a bit long to really be a one shot, so have split it into two chapters - I will post the second chapter tomorrow.

Nearly every day I have emails to tell me that someone has added one of my stories or me as an author to their favourite list and I truly love that - it means so much. However, I would also love to know why you added it/me and what you like about my writing enough to click that button. Remember, reviews are my friend :)

Hope you all like this one...please let me know!

* * *

 **Chapter One**

Ron's blue eyes glared into my own brown, unwavering with fierce determination as he folded his arms across his chest and slowly raised one eyebrow, neither of us prepared to back down from this stand off.

"Please?" I tried again, my voice softer and this time throwing in a little pout – using most of my tried and tested weapons against him. Only tears left and I knew I'd have him in the palm of my hand.

He sighed. "I said no, Hermione."

"But -" I huffed, "- I'm going to go insane just sat here with nothing to do!" I half wailed, throwing my hands in the air.

"You're supposed to relax, keep off your feet and avoid stress." He unnecessarily reminded me.

"Honestly, it's not like I'm demanding to go back into the office yet. I just want you to pop into my office and get them to send me a few files home. I can sit right and read through them." I argued, hardly thinking that was a strenuous activity.

Ron inhaled deeply and sat down on the arm of the sofa by my head. "But I know you Hermione," he began, smoothly, running his fingers through my hair. "You'll read the files and worry about what's in them, then you'll start whittering about how no one else is capable of handling the situation and then you'll get stressed about it all and your blood pressure will go up again. Didn't you hear what that Healer said?" He asked, knowing full well that I had heard her loud and clear.

"That was three days ago," I groaned. "I've done nothing but rest over the weekend. You've barely let me lift a finger. Ron, I need to…"

"No!" He held his hand up to stop me. "The only thing you _need_ to do is rest! You fainted at work Hermione. Fainted! You were found passed out on the floor in your office. Do you have any idea how damn frightened I was? For you _and_ our baby? What if that had happened whilst you were taking the floo or out alone somewhere? You are nine months pregnant, love, it's time to take things easy. You can't keep doing everything, thinking you're invincible."

I huffed loudly and rolled my eyes before folding my own arms across my chest. I'd heard the same rant from him all weekend – about how worried he'd been, how I needed to rest now and look after both myself and our unborn child. And I knew that he was right, I didn't want anything happening to our baby either. But I also knew I was going to go mental with nothing to do around the house until I gave birth.

Everything was ready, apart from her it seemed. The nursery had been decorated and furnished weeks ago – so I couldn't even entertain myself with preparing that. All our unborn daughter's new little outfits and blankets were washed and carefully folded – ready and waiting in her drawers. We had piles of nappies ready for use - lotions, powders and creams lined up waiting on the changing unit. Baby bottles in the cupboard for when I decided to stop breast feeding and everything a baby could possibly need in the first few months of life. Even her cot was made up, just waiting for her to arrive – the last piece in this puzzle.

Waiting was going to drive me quite mad with nothing to do, which is why I had been determined to work until as close to my due date as possible. Everyone thought I was mad, that I should relish the time to have a break and relax whilst I could. I know Ginny had given up work the moment she found out James was on the way – but her job had been somewhat dangerous and unsuitable for a pregnant lady – the baby would have been put at far too much risk in a highly competitive sport. My situation was entirely different – there was nothing dangerous about sitting in an office, after all.

But now, here I was, banned from working and ordered to rest just because of one stupid little fainting spell. I suppose I should be grateful, apart from some morning sickness in the early weeks, I had pretty much sailed through this pregnancy. But, now here I was, banished to the couch two whole weeks before the baby was even due. What was I supposed to do with myself?

Thinking he'd won this battle, he got up. "Now, your Mum said she'll pop over for lunch and keep you company." Ron began fussing with pillows behind my back whilst he summoned over a blanket.

"Ron! I'm not sick! Besides, it's far too warm for that!" I tossed it aside when it landed by my feet.

"Fine." He rolled his eyes when he thought I wasn't watching. "And I'll be home as soon as I can," he continued. "I wish I was able to stay home with you, but you know my paternity leave doesn't start until you're in labour. They won't let me go any earlier, I asked."

"Huh!" I sulked. All right for some! Nothing had to change for him, did it?

"Please Hermione -" he placed his hand on my huge belly protruding in front of me "-listen to me, the healers, our Mothers, Ginny...they know what they're talking about, love and you need to take things easier now. I don't want anything happening to either of you. Promise me?" He stared me down, sternly.

"I'm not an idiot Ronald!" I hissed. "I've read all the books. Fainting is not uncommon in pregnancy, besides my office was too warm that day," I insisted once more. "I am simply pregnant – something woman have been doing for thousands of years! I'm not an invalid, I am still capable of working and I certainly don't need a babysitter!"

Ron nodded patiently. "Office was too warm, huh? So I suppose the healer didn't find that your blood pressure was too high or anything?" he raised one knowing eyebrow. "I know you're frustrated love, I do. But, it's not forever and...if nothing else, do it for our little girl, please?"

"Fine," I sighed, reluctantly, thumping my arms down at my sides, giving in. "I shall be good and do what everyone says. And I'll also be very bored and if I want to be a complete bitch about it, I will!" I grumbled.

"That's my girl," he suppressed a grin as he kissed my forehead before checking his watch. "I'm gonna have to go. Do you have everything you need?" He looked around, noting the pile of books and my wand that he'd set close by. That morning's copy of the Daily Prophet, along with my quill for doing the puzzles and a box of tissues. The pot of tea he'd made me along with the plate of biscuits in case I got peckish. He was folding the blanket again and draped it over the sofa. "Just in case," he muttered.

"I am a witch, aren't I?" I asked him. "I can summon anything I need," I waved my wand at him. "Though I hope you don't expect me to use magical means of going to the toilet?"

He laughed. "I think you're allowed to move to go to the loo," he smirked. "I'd best be off. Your Mum should be here soon, and Ginny said she might pop over. I'll see you later," he smiled and dipped his head for another kiss.

I kissed him back, tugging him closer and making him grunt. "I'm sorry I'm such a grouch," I whispered when we parted. "I know you're just trying to look after us." I stroked my very pregnant bump.

"That I am," he kissed my lips once more and then another to my belly before straightening up. "And, I still love you, Ms grouchy!" he chuckled as I tossed one of the cushions at him.

He waved, still laughing as he climbed into the fireplace with a handful of floo powder. "See you later, love."

"Bye...I love you too. And bring me some damn work to do!" I shouted after him, not knowing if he'd even heard me, but also knowing he'd pretend he hadn't to prevent me from working. I slouched back on the sofa with a heavy sigh. "Well Rosie," I stroked a spot on my belly where a little foot was protruding. "Looks like it's just you and me. What are we supposed to do now?"

I made myself comfortable again, sorting out the cushions that Ron had messed about with. I drank some tea and I glanced through the headlines on the newspaper, then looked up at the clock on the mantelpiece. Great, he hadn't been gone five minutes and I was bored already! So, with a huff of air, I snatched one of the books up Ron had left out for me and settled down to read. At least they hadn't taken those away from me as well.

* * *

Four days later and I was going stir crazy! I can't remember a time when I'd been this idle with absolutely nothing to do and I hated it. I didn't think I would ever say it, but I was even fed up of reading! I knew that my Mum, Molly, Ginny and even Angelina all meant well when they popped in to see how I was doing and keep me company or entertained, but I honestly just felt as though they were checking up on me. As though Ron had told them to all make sure I was doing as I was told.

"Ron! You're home early!" Molly commented, looking up from her knitting as I dropped the book I had been reading to watch my husband climb over the grate, syphoning off the worst of the soot from his clothes.

"Yeah." He dropped his bag and cloak in a heap and came to sit beside me on the couch. "It's been a slow day and Harry offered to finish my paperwork off for me so I could get home to Hermione," he explained whilst leaning over and kissing my temple. "How have you been, love?" he wrapped an arm around me.

"The same," I shrugged with a weary sigh. "And fed up of sitting here doing nothing useful!"

Ron smiled patiently and gave me another kiss before sliding down on the sofa a little, getting more comfortable. "It will be worth it," he promised, rubbing my huge belly and grinning when he was rewarded with a kick from his unborn child.

"I keep trying to convince her to take up knitting," Molly piped up, finishing off her row. "I find it very relaxing and it will give her something to do. You could make a lovely blanket for the baby, dear. Or even a blanket for your own bed. Would be nice and warm and...for heavens sake Ronald, what is so funny?" She narrowed her eyes at her youngest son.

Ron had been fighting back laughter beside me, despite my jabbing him with my elbow to shut up.

"Sorry Mum, it's just...I remember Hermione's attempts at knitting, back in our fourth year! And...well, no baby of mine is going to have a woolly bladder for a blanket, or even a hat! Honestly, she was bloody useless at…"

I cut him off, smacking him on the head with the book I'd been reading.

"Ouch! Hermione!" He yelped, rubbing his head. "What was that for?"

"I wasn't amused," I folded my arms. "Stop making fun of me!"

"Sorry," he mumbled, but it was obvious he was choking back further laughter on the matter. "Anyway," he changed the subject, eyeing the book still in my hands suspiciously. "How was your day? Have you been feeling okay?"

"I already told you, fine!" I hissed between clenched teeth. How many times did I have to answer that question on a daily basis? "It's not as though I'm sick, is it? I'm just ordered to sit here and do nothing at all and be bored rigid all day as people fuss over me," I nudged him away. "I really wish this baby would just be born now and be done with it!" I glared at my stomach.

"Really?" Ron frowned. I don't think he could understand how someone could not like being told to put your feet up and take it easy. I know he'd milk it for as long as he could!

Molly chuckled. "I remember those last weeks," she smiled wistfully. "Wanting it to be over, but also not wanting to let go. You've kept this little baby all safe and warm for months and you're so scared about bringing them into this world with all it's dangers. But then you can't imagine another second of being this uncomfortable." she nodded. "I do empathise."

"Honestly, I'm just ready for the pregnancy to be over now." Hermione sighed. "I'm so tired of being pregnant and not being able to do anything!"

"Yeah, but..." Ron frowned again. "Everyone keeps telling me that everything changes when the baby is born anyway. Not like you can give birth and then get back to work the next day, is it?"

"I know that!" I hissed at him. "But at least I'll be able to go to the damn bathroom without people hovering over me!" I snapped at him.

Ron sighed and looked over at his Mum for some support.

She smiled as she began putting her knitting away. "Don't worry," she assured her son. "It's all very normal. I was awful to your father just before any of you lot were born. It just means the baby is probably going to come soon by the time the mother has had enough. And you have to understand Ron, women can get very uncomfortable when they're as big as Hermione is, and..."

"I...I'm not that big," I looked up, feeling mortified. "Am I?" I asked Ron.

"You're beautiful," he quickly replied and gave me a wide smile.

"I'm not, I'm disgusting, aren't I?" I wailed, barely able to see my own feet over my belly. "I'm huge and I feel like a bloody whale. Y...you must hate me!" I began to sob, having no control over anything right now.

Ron sighed as he gathered me into his arms. "You are anything but disgusting and I could never hate you, darling. I love you...all of you. You're just pregnant, keeping our baby warm," he cooed softly, rubbing my back as he held me. "I still think you're beautiful," he added.

"You...you're lying. You're just...s, saying that!" I mumbled between bouts of sobbing and hiccups.

"No I'm not. You're still the beautiful woman I married. And now you're having my baby...and I love it!" He promised, stroking his hand through my hair as he tried to comfort me. I missed the scowl he gave his Mum over my shoulder, blaming her for upsetting me.

At least he assumed she was to blame this time. Right now it could be anything that set me off. Just this morning it had been the fact he'd left the loo seat up and I needed to use it! I'd had tears over the bloody toilet! This was the one thing I truly hated about being pregnant...I wasn't in control of anything. And for someone who liked to plan things, to make lists and draw up charts, losing control was hard. Now I didn't even have any control over my emotions!

"Yes, well I think I should probably be heading off," Molly picked her knitting bag up and stood from the chair. "Your father will be wanting his tea soon," she added, busying herself by summoning her cloak from the hallway and fastening it. "I've left a casserole in the oven for your dinner. And, shall I see you tomorrow Hermione, love?"

"Oh, really...you don't have to." I pulled back from Ron, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. "I'll be perfectly fine."

"Nonsense. I can pop over. And your Mother will be here for lunch?" she inquired.

"Yes," I sighed.

The whole damn babysitting service will be in action once again. I was becoming resigned to the fact this was just how things were going to be until the baby was born now. And even after she'd arrived I expect people would be popping in to see how we were and peak at the baby. Would we ever get a moments peace again?

"I'll see you tomorrow then," I gave in, watching as Ron said his goodbyes and she headed back to The Burrow.

* * *

"What's for dinner?" Ron grumbled, slinging his cloak across the armchair and stomping towards the kitchen, kicking his boots off as he went.

"I don't know!" I called after him. Really, a hello would have been nice! He was home late, so late that I had fallen asleep on the sofa and Molly had left hours ago.

"What do you mean you don't know?" he poked his head back into the lounge. "Didn't Mum leave us anything? Haven't you eaten?"

"In case you didn't notice, I had fallen asleep. And no, Molly had to get back early as Percy was going over there for dinner."

"Well, that's just great!" he threw his arms into the air. "I'm bloody starving and totally knackered. I've barely stopped all damn day. And now I have to find us something to eat," he continued grumbling, banging and crashing around in the kitchen.

I waddled through to the kitchen myself, intent on keeping an eye on him, sensing his bad mood. I sat down heavily at the table and rubbed my back – carrying this load around was becoming an effort and a half. "I would fix us something, but no one will let me," I reminded him.

He slammed the fridge shut. "I'm not expecting you to make me something. But I thought Mum might or at least go shopping for us – there's hardly any food in the house!" He slammed another cupboard door closed.

"Well, you know what you can do then, don't you?" I snapped, annoyed now with his tantrum. He turned to look at me, his face like thunder. "You can just move back home with Mummy and then she can look after you all the damn time!" I snapped, hauling myself out of the chair again and waddling back into the lounge.

"That's not what I meant!" he yelled after me.

"Well, since I'm so incapable of being a decent wife!"

"Hermione," he groaned, chasing after me. "I didn't mean. I know you can't. Look, it doesn't matter! I'm just tired and hungry and all week Mum has been making things for us and now she hasn't. I got used to it, that's all!" He sat down on the sofa. "I know you can't be doing much right now, you have to take things easy for you and the baby." He reached over to touch my belly and I shoved him off me.

"Save it! I have heard all that before!" I muttered.

"Then stop yelling at me!"

"You started it, you idiot!"

"Idiot? Oh that's nice! I've been out working all day and come home to my wife calling me an idiot! Lovely that is."

"Stop being so damn childish Ronald!" I threw the cushion at him and then inexplicably, burst into tears.

Ron groaned, sounding very tired and weary. "Bloody mood swings are going to kill me!" he muttered to himself. But I still heard.

"I don't know why you put up with me then!" I sniffed. "Maybe you should go back to Mummy!"

He paused, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "I want to be with you, not my Mum. I'm sorry, it's just been a rough day."

"You don't have to come home and take it out on me," I mumbled, wiping my eyes on a tissue I found.

"I know, I'm sorry. I'll...I'll just try and find something for us to eat." He got up with a long, tired groan and traipsed back to the kitchen.

He returned a few minutes later with toasted cheese and tomato sandwiches for us both and ripped open a packet of crisps he'd found in the back of a cupboard somewhere, sharing them with me as he poured some onto my plate. He sat back with his own plate and yawned, stretching his feet out on the table in front of him and ate slowly.

"Thank you," I smiled at him, before taking a bite of my own food.

He offered me a weak, lazy smile and lay his head back on the sofa cushion, his food still in his lap. I felt horrible then, it was obvious how utterly exhausted he was and I knew he hadn't meant any of what he'd said as an insult. Ron was just like a troll with a sore head when he was hungry, and couple that with being tired, he could be temporarily horrid. I wished I was able to help more, that I wasn't confined to bed rest and I felt useless all over again.

"I'm sorry," I sniffed, abandoning my own half eaten food to lay my head on his shoulder and curl an arm around him. "I know I'm a useless moody bitch right now and I'm sorry for what I said." I kissed his neck.

He sighed softly and pulled his arm from beneath me, wrapping it around me too. "I'm sorry I snapped." he returned. "I was just expecting to come home to a nice hot meal and then go to bed. Not your fault, love," he turned and kissed the top of my head.

"I'm sorry you had a bad day too. I missed you," I whimpered, feeling the tears return. "I was lonely and, I just…I need you so much Ron," I sniffed.

"Why are you crying now?" he asked, trying to be patient.

"I don't know," I mumbled, shaking my head. "I just, I feel useless and I'm such a bitch to you, but I do love you. I miss you all day and I hate being stuck here without you. I'm sorry I take it out on you. Please don't leave me," I begged, clinging to his body now.

He gave a rather disbelieving weird grunt. "What the bloody hell are you on about? I'm not going anywhere! We argued - that's what we do! Merlin, woman," he shook his head and ate some more of his food.

"I'm just...I'm sorry. I hate being like this and I love you."

"I know. I love you too," he said softly patting my arm. "Now, stop being silly about this and eat up so we can go to bed." he smiled

I nodded and wiped my tears up again, giving him a rather wet smile as I ate my sandwich in silence. Ron got up to fetch us both a glass of milk, but I heard him mutter something about bloody pregnancy hormones being the death of him!

* * *

Thankfully, the following day was a Saturday and it was his weekend off, so he could have a lie in and we shouldn't be bothered by well meaning babysitters. I was willing this baby to be born now, this weekend, so as it didn't come at some inconvenient time where he was on a mission or snowed under at work. But, our daughter had other ideas and stayed nice and cosy right where she was. Ron got some shopping done later that day and even did a bit of housework – although between our Mother's, the house was fairly tidy.

Sunday however, was our one day to totally relax together. After waking and having a long, lazy snuggle in bed, Ron crept downstairs whilst I waddled to use the bathroom. He returned minutes later with tea and toast for us both and that morning's copy of the Sunday Prophet tucked under his arm. Mind you, once he'd glanced at the sports headlines and read his favourite comics, he lost interest in the newspaper and became much more entranced with watching the movements of my belly. Amusing himself with balancing a piece of toast on top and watching the baby kicking it off!

Eating the last bite of his toast, Ron rolled onto his front, shuffled down the bed and propped his chin up in the palm of his hand. His other hand had pushed the bedsheets aside and slipped my nightgown up over my bump, towering above him.

"Morning sweet girl," he pressed his lips against my belly. "Hope you're being a good girl for your Mummy," he added, smoothing a hand over the taut skin.

This had recently become a frequent occurrence, Ron having a little chat with his unborn daughter, showering my pregnant belly with kisses and caresses indulgently. I found it somewhat sweet and endearing, though a little annoying at times when I needed to be getting on with something and he wanted me to lay still so he could finish his one sided conversation.

"You know," I put the newspaper down and picked up my tea, "you could have a word with your daughter about getting a move on and getting out of there! I'm afraid her length of stay has expired and she's about to be evicted." I chuckled lightly, reaching down to scratch the soft ginger locks above his ear.

"Did you hear that little one? Mummy wants you to come out now," he smiled up at me. "I think really she's just excited about meeting you," he added in a loud stage whisper.

"Of course I am. I can't wait to see what she looks like and hold her in my arms. But I also want this damn pregnancy over with. I'm so tired of being fat and uncomfortable." I sighed, setting my cup down again.

"You're beautiful," Ron added, his automatic response now whenever I put myself down. He kissed my bump again, just as his daughter kicked and bumped his nose, making us both chuckle.

"Whilst you're down there, make yourself useful and rub some of this in." I handed him the jar from the bedside table. A cream that his Mother had whipped up for me that was supposed to prevent stretch marks – she and every women to have birthed a Weasley baby, swore by it.

As he began rubbing the cream into my skin, I went back to my perusal of the newspaper - even if I couldn't actually be a part of the community right now, I still wanted to know what was going on in our world. Ron's hands felt good on my skin and the baby was enjoying the touch too – kicking away and flipping inside me – obviously no intention of wanting to be born any time soon.

But then I felt his hands go a little higher under my nightgown and caress a currently engorged breast – the thing Ron loved most about my pregnant body – much bigger boobs! I cleared my throat and lowered the corner of the paper to meet his eye, arching one eyebrow.

He did it again, this time giving me a wiggle of his own eyebrows and that naughty little smirk on his face.

"I don't think so!" I pushed his hand back down and tossed the newspaper aside, smoothing my clothing back over my body.

"Aaw, come on love. It's been ages," he whined, a sour look now gracing his face.

"Yeah? Well get used to it, because after she's born it's going to be months before I let you back down there. If ever!" I warned him.

"What?" he stared at me, open mouthed – a complete look of horror.

"You heard!" I rolled my eyes and pulled the sheets back up.

"But, George told me something about sex inducing labour. So, if you really want this over with..." he winked suggestively.

"Ron," I sighed. "I can barely get out of bed right now without your help. I can't even roll over any more. If you honestly think I feel remotely sexy and want to be making love, you're insane!"

He groaned and rolled onto his back, his hands covering his face, clearly disappointed and maybe just a bit sexually frustrated. "Well, there's other stuff we can do. We don't have to have full sex." His face brightened just a little at that thought as he peered at me again.

"Dream on Weasley!"

He thumped the mattress beneath him. "This is so unfair. I have needs!" he wailed.

"Then I suggest you go take a nice cold shower and...work things out yourself!" I smiled, fighting back the urge to laugh at the pathetic look on his face.

He grunted something and sat up on the edge of the bed, clearly contemplating my suggestion. Finally, after running his hands through his hair, he stood from the bed and stomped his way into the bathroom, muttering something along the lines of how he was never knocking me up again!

The following week passed much in the same way – Ron busy working all hours, family popping in to keep me company and my mood swings almost giving my poor husband whiplash with the speed they changed! My due date came and went, but Rose seemed perfectly content to stay right where she was, with no intention of moving. Everyone tried to reassure me that it was perfectly normal for a first baby to be late and Molly joked that she must take after her Daddy in being rather laid back and enjoying the warm and cosy nest she'd created for herself.

I, personally, was more than ready to get on with this.

* * *

Chapter two tomorrow - promise!

Review!


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for all the reviews so far. Here is the conclusion as promised :)

Hope you like it.

* * *

 **Chapter Two**

"Hermione?" I heard Ron calling from the lounge on his return from work via the floo.

"In the kitchen!" I called back, stretching to reach a bit I'd missed.

"I spoke with Harry, he said that…what the bloody hell are you doing woman!" Ron dropped the package he'd been holding and hurled himself forward, arms outstretched as though ready to catch me.

"Don't you woman me!" I waved the dirty cloth at him.

He exhaled and reached up to grab me. "Why, in Merlin's saggy balls, are you climbing up on chairs cleaning windows?" He shook his head, whilst trying to lift me down, his face turning red with the effort.

"Because they're dirty, obviously!" I flapped his hands off me. "Get off. I'm perfectly fine. I woke feeling really good today and I want everything clean, before the baby comes." I told him, using his shoulder to brace myself on as I climbed down myself, somewhat clumsily.

I'd actually had a really good, productive day after having slept better last night than I had in weeks. It had also been a peaceful day - Mum hadn't been able to stop long at lunch. Dad was away at some dentistry conference, so she was flat out in the surgery. And Molly was busy watching James whilst Ginny was away reporting on a Quidditch match. So, I'd had most of the day to myself for the first time in weeks. Almost as soon as Ron had left for work this morning, I'd jumped out of bed with a burst of unexpected energy and the need to get on with some jobs around the house.

"But..." he huffed again. "If you had to clean at all, which I really don't understand," he shook his head, "couldn't you at least do it the magical way? Then you wouldn't need to be climbing up on bloody chairs and endangering the life of you or the baby!"

"Stop being dramatic," I rolled my eyes, not at all listening to his concerns as I went to rinse out the dirty cloth. "Besides, I wanted it done properly. Sometimes Muggle methods just work best." I insisted, squeezing out the excess water.

Ron muttered something under his breath, something about this whole pregnancy doing his head in! He was doing that a lot lately – muttering under his breath. I pretended I hadn't heard and made to climb back up on the chair to finish my job.

"Oh no!" He snatched the cloth from me. "If you insist on cleaning these blasted windows with ridiculous Muggle methods, then at least let me do it now I'm home. No more climbing for you!"

"Okay." I told him brightly, drying my hands on the apron I'd managed to stretch over my currently enlarged body. "That way I can get on with dusting upstairs. The cobwebs on the ceiling are getting worse." I mumbled to myself, wandering down the hall.

"The...what? Wait! Hermione!" He ran after me, chasing me with the cloth dripping in his hands.

The same pattern continued throughout much of the evening, every little task I attempted, every nook I tried to dust or mop or sweep up, he was there to take over, insisting I shouldn't be doing anything as I was supposed to be resting. It went on for some hours since I was so terribly restless, whilst Ron sleepily followed behind me.

Finally, later that night, after he'd finally convinced me to stop for a quick dinner and a snuggle by the fire, we fell into bed. Ron was out, snoring away, moments after his head touched the pillow. Me, I struggled to find a comfortable position, tossing and turning and worrying I might wake Ron. I felt a little bad knowing he'd put in a long day at work and had then spent the majority of his evening chasing me around the house and doing domestic duties. And it was all just because he cared about the both of us so much.

So, after about half an hour, I gave in and got up, leaving him to sleep in peace as I padded across the hall to the nursery. I walked around the room, admiring the handiwork Ron had lovingly spent hours on in here – the painting, the varnishing, the mural - everything to make it perfect for our little girl and he'd done a superb job - insisting on doing it alone. For wont of something to do, I began pulling everything from the chest of drawers to check them over, only to refold all the tiny baby clothes and put them back. I changed the sheets on the cot and rearranged the stuffed animals and toys already lined up on the shelf.

Then, inexplicably I decided the furniture was all set out wrong – that it would be nice for the cot to be by the window so the baby could see outside and it would be more practical for the changing unit to be by the door for quick changes. So, rather foolishly, I began to move the furniture around myself. I knew I should have nipped back into the bedroom for my wand to move things magically, but there was something satisfying about doing it manually, apart from the serious back ache I finished up with.

Almost three hours later, I slid back into bed beside my snoring husband, hoping to be able to sleep this time. Only I was even more uncomfortable now, my back in spasm after pulling the furniture about and my stomach cramping on me. It wasn't until I sat up, giving a rather frustrated huff as I shuffled to the edge of the bed and slid my feet into my slippers to pay a visit to the bathroom, that I realised what was actually happening.

A puddle slowly pooled on the floor, dripping from the bedsheets and spreading further. I sat staring at the puddle as a sharp pain suddenly hit me from my middle. My eyes widened when it finally dawned on me what was going on - what had probably been going on all day.

I was in labour.

The baby was coming!

Being the independent, stubborn woman I was, I still waddled through to the bathroom, used the loo and then returned with an old towel to mop up the mess before I even attempted to wake Ron. In which time I had had a rather big, painful contraction and was becoming a little concerned.

"Ron," I sat gingerly on the edge of the bed and reached over, nudging his shoulder. "Ron!" I spoke louder and shook him harder. "It's...I think it's time." I told him.

"Huh?" he mumbled, unintelligibly and rolled over towards me. "Wazamatta?"

"It's time!" I repeated, my arms clasped around my belly.

"Time?" he yawned and popped one eye open, blearily eyeing the clock, "it's 2.17," he muttered and closed his eyes again. "Go back to sleep H'mione," he grunted and nestled his head back into his pillow.

"Ronald Weasley!" I shouted and this time I thumped his upper arm. "The baby is coming!" I could feel the twinge of another contraction starting. And although they weren't too painful or strong right now, I was becoming alarmed. This was not something I could control – no amount of reading books was ever going to prepare me for giving birth – everyone had told me that.

He sat up and rubbed his eyes, peering at me in the darkness. "What?" He frowned.

"The baby is coming!" I hissed and breathed through the contraction.

His eyes widened, he glanced from my belly to my face and back again. And then he finally understood as he flung back the sheets, becoming tangled in them as he threw himself out of bed, landing on his knees when his foot was still caught in the blankets. "Why the bloody hell didn't you say so!" He muttered, crawling around the floor, trying to untangle himself and find his clothes at the same time.

"Because I only just realised!" I wailed at him. "And calm down! We probably have hours, it's early stages." I tried to keep him calm. but at the same time burst into tears.

He looked up, eyes full of alarm at seeing me break down. And then he crawled to my side of the bed, finally free of the blankets and knelt up, wrapping his long arms around me. "Hey," he crooned against my hair as I sobbed onto him. "It's going to be fine. You're going to be great, H'mione." He pressed his lips into my hair.

"I...I'm scared," I confessed, raising my head from his shoulder and wiping my nose with my hand.

Ron stroked my hair and titled my face up to meet his eyes. "You're going to be amazing. I know you are. And then, we can meet out little girl. Our Rosie," he grinned, suddenly excited about it. He managed to steal a smile out of me. "Okay?" he asked after a few moments of holding me, comforting me and calming me down.

I nodded against his chest. I was as okay as I was going to get right now.

"Right...well I'll have to try and be the practical one for a moment." He ran his hands through his hair as he thought things throug. "So...first things first, we need to get dressed." He looked at us both in our pyjamas. "Then contact our parents and get ourselves to Saint Mungo's, right?" he checked.

I nodded again. It seemed he had the plan of action well memorised. But then I had gone over and over it with him the last few weeks as I carefully considered every scenario of when I might go into labour and had a plan of action for each.

"Okay. I'm on it. You just...you sit there, love." He kissed my forehead and handed me a hanky before rushing around the room again and haphazardly pulling clothes out for the both of us.

* * *

Apart from a couple of moments of panic when Ron initially couldn't get hold of his Mum and when he almost floo'ed us to the hospital before he realised he was still running around in just his underwear, I felt quite proud that he managed to get himself under control and then transport us both and my prepared bag to the hospital, safe and sound.

Molly had assured Ron she'd Disapparate straight over to my parents to let them know and bring them to the hospital. Being Muggles, my parents would need magical assistance to gain entry – something I had already cleared with the hospital and the Ministry – because magical or not, I was not giving birth without my Mum!

Within an hour of waking Ron, I was settled into a private labour room and had been checked over by a healer who informed us both that although I was in labour, it was early stages and could be hours before I actually gave birth. Ron groaned and sat down heavily in the chair half asleep. Honestly, what did he have to groan about? I was the one who had to do all the work here, I was the one in pain and knew I had to get this baby out. He just had to sit there and try to be supportive.

"Want to try that Les Mis thing?" he asked me sometime later, as I breathed my way through a contraction - they were getting a little longer and stronger now.

I frowned at him, clenching my teeth. "What?" I snapped.

"You know, that Les Mis breathing thing you talked about with your Mum? She insisted it helped her when she had you." He shrugged, not really sure himself what he was on about.

I sighed once the contraction wore off and wiped my damp forehead with the back of my arm. "You mean lamaze. Les Mis is my Mum's favourite musical!" I rolled my eyes. Honestly, if I wasn't feeling so uncomfortable and irritable right now, I might have laughed – Les Mis indeed!

"Oh...well, do want to try that then?" he offered, giving me a sheepish grin as he hovered by my bed side, stroking my upper arm.

"No...just, sit down." I pointed to his chair. Everything was irritating me right now and I knew he was trying to help here, to offer his support, but he wasn't exactly helping matters.

"Okay," he mumbled and sat down, drumming his fingers against the wooden arm of the chair as he stared at the clock. "How long do you think it will..."

"I don't bloody know!" I hissed at him. "And for Merlin's sake, stop doing that!" I screeched at him, the sound of his drumming fingers grating on me.

"Sorry," he folded his arms and lay his head back against the chair.

I groaned when another contraction took hold, they seemed to be coming on faster. Ron shot up out of his chair, hovering over me again with a look of panic on his face, not knowing how to help. "Can't they give you something? A pain potion? Or...something to speed it up?" he wondered, wincing when I grasped his hand and squeezed.

Luckily for Ron, before I had chance to reply to his ridiculous comment or throw something at him, the door burst open and my Mum rushed in, quickly followed by Molly.

"Mum..." I sighed with relief as she bent to hug me.

"How are you doing? Everything as expected?" she asked, tidying my hair back as she met my eyes.

I nodded. "I think so. It just...it hurts." I almost whimpered.

"I know love," she smiled and squeezed my shoulder. "I remember."

"It gets easier by about your fifth or sixth. Ron was so long and skinny as a baby he just about slipped out!" Molly chuckled.

Ron was gaping at her, his ears turning red – not wanting to hear details of his own birth and certainly not right now. Whilst I looked on in complete alarm – the very thought of doing this another five times was terrifying! Nope, Ron would have to make do with just one child, I wasn't doing this again.

"You'll be fine sweetheart," she smiled encouragingly. "And once that little baby is in your arms, none of this part will matter, I promise," she added, knowingly as my own Mum nodded beside her. I begged to differ – would you forget pushing a grapefruit out of your nose! "How's Ron doing?" Molly whispered to me then.

I just rolled my eyes and heaved a sigh.

Molly grinned and nodded. "Thought as much. I'm sure he'll be there for you when you really need him though, I know my boys." She smiled that knowing smile again. "Anyway, I let Harry know you had gone into hospital, I think he's on his way over. Ginny will join him once James is awake and she can find someone to watch him, think Andromeda had offered to take him when the time came." She rambled on, drawing up a chair for herself and my Mother with her wand and took a seat, rummaging in her bag for her knitting. "Oh, and he said not to worry Ron, he'll clear things with work for you. Let them know your paternity leave has started." Ron nodded gratefully, though truth be told work was probably the last thing on his mind right now. "I expect he'll be here soon."

That was the strange thing about the four of us – Harry and Ginny, and Ron and myself. We were a tight unit – still the best of friends and even though we had our own lives and families now, we were still there for one another. With every niece and nephew that had come before, we'd heard the news they were on their way and gone about our normal day, patiently waiting for further news. Then, once the rush had died down with streams of family visitors, we'd headed over to meet the newest addition to the family for ourselves.

Yet, when James had been on the way, Ron and I had been there the whole time – anxiously pacing the halls, giving Ginny encouragement and supporting Harry who had been something of a basket case with last minute nerves of becoming a father. It was an unspoken agreement that they'd do the same for us. After all, we'd gone through so many adventures together and supported one another through so much since we were 11 year old children – why should us becoming parents be any different?

As if on cue, Harry poked his head around the door just minutes later, finding Molly clacking away with her needles as Mum sat beside me on the bed, coaching me with my breathing through a contraction. Ron was hovering close by, desperately trying to be helpful, but not really knowing how.

"Everything okay?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah mate, we're fine." Ron nodded, looking relieved to see his best friend and another male here.

"Speak for yourself!" I hissed as my contraction reached it's peak.

Harry just nodded and stepped into the room, nodding his head towards Ron, indicating for him to meet him in the corner. I blew out a breath as the pain eased off again and watched them conspiring together. Harry had his hand on Ron's back, giving him a pat as they whispered together and Ron nodded, glancing back at me and then concentrating on what Harry was telling him. Ron looked a little calmer when he was done, more hopeful somehow and approached the bed with a smile, giving me a kiss on the cheek and taking my hand.

"Do you need anything, love? Can I get you some water?" He asked, brushing a thumb over my knuckles.

I shook my head, but hoped Harry had helped him with some sage advice. At least something seemed to have shifted in my husband, for now.

"Just let me know how I can help." Ron kissed my hand.

"I'll leave you be for now," Harry came over and gave my shoulder a gently squeeze. "Just wanted to check things were okay and let you know I'm here. Good luck." He gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'm right outside if you need me," he spoke more to Ron as he gave his mate another reassuring pat on the back again and left the room.

Hours seemed to pass as labour progressed slowly. Ginny popped in when she got here. She gave her brother her own dose of sage wisdom – don't be a prat – and me some encouragement, assuring me it would be worth it in the end. Molly and Mum popped in and out of the room – taking breaks and giving us some time alone, especially when a healer came in to check on my progress. Ron, bless him, for all his blunders never left my side.

The pain got worse, the contractions stronger and closer together, yet this baby seemed to have no intention of coming out. Taking after her father already – procrastinating! I was writhing on the bed by this time, in pain, exhausted and damp with sweat, begging for it to be over, for someone to just take this damn thing out of me.

"Not much longer now, love," Ron promised me, with a kiss to my head.

"You said that bloody hours ago!" I grimaced.

"I know, but..." he faded off, not knowing what to say to make me feel better. There really wasn't anything he could say. "Can I get you anything?" he offered instead.

I closed my eyes, a tear leaking from them. "I don't want to do this any more," I told him. "I want to go home," I whispered.

"Oh, H'mione love..." he brushed my sweaty hair back. "It will be all over..."

"Don't you dare say soon!" I hissed, feeling another contraction building.

"Fine!" He held his hands up until I grabbed for his and squeezed it, hard.

"Ouch! Woman…bloody hell!" he squeaked.

"How are we doing?" A healer popped in at that moment. "Are you sure you don't want any pain potion? Or there's a spell I can cast that numbs out the worst of the contractions?" she suggested.

"No," I grimaced. Bloody stubborn fool – I was determined to do this as naturally as possible.

"I'll take some of that pain potion!" Ron muttered, staring at his hand as he flexed his fingers once I let it go. "Think she broke my damn hand!" he grumbled.

I shot him a withering look and he shut up instantly, standing there cradling his hand against his chest.

The healer shared an amused look with my husband before disappearing between my legs to check on my progress. She said there wasn't much change – which just upset me and I began to cry.

Ron tried to hold me, to comfort me and whispered nonsense into my ear about how amazing I was and how proud of me he was. Instead I shoved him away. "Get off – I'm too damn hot!" I huffed then and threw the best sheets aside as well, sweating. At least now I understood why it was called labour and why everyone had warned me I couldn't learn all this from a book – this was hard work.

"I'll get you some water," Ron muttered, rushing to fill a glass.

"I don't want a drink. I'm just sweaty and urgh..." I grumbled, shoving back my hair that was in the way.

Ron lovingly pulled it back and tied it into a messy knot on top of my head for me, then thoughtfully summoned a cold, wet cloth from the sink in the corner of the room. Only, the damn thing went off kilter and, dripping wet, it slapped me right in the face, soaking me through. "Shit! Sorry! Sorry!" he muttered as he grabbed it to begin wiping my sweaty brow, only to then manage dripping water in my eyes.

"For fucks sake Ronald!" I lost my patience with him and snatched the cloth from his hand, hurling it at him where it landed in the middle of his chest. "Just. Stop. Being. A. Prat!" I yelled, punctuating each word with a slap to his arm.

"I'm trying...I'm sorry!" he whimpered, letting the cloth fall to the floor with a wet slap.

"Just…get Harry in here." I grimaced.

"What?" Ron frowned. "Why do you…"

"I need Harry!" I shoved him towards the door.

"But, what do you…"

"Just get him!" I demanded, thrusting my finger towards the door,

Ron glanced back at me warily, rather indignant with a look of hurt in his eyes as he exhaled sharply and then tramped towards the door. He poked his head out and waved his best mate inside. Ron shrugged as Harry followed him, confusion evident on his face.

"Get him out of here!" I shrieked as soon as the door closed behind them, pointing at the pair of them.

"What the fuck?" Ron bellowed. "But you just bloody well asked me to..."

"Not him. You!" I yelled back. "Harry, please take Ron out of here. He is driving me fucking mental!" I swore, rather uncharacteristically.

Both boys raised their eyebrows at that – knowing things must be bad for me swear.

"Wow!" I heard Harry whisper under his breath.

"But, H'mione, love...I can't leave. You…"

"Just go!" I warned him, jabbing my finger at the door before further pain gripped me and I clung to the bed, trying to remember how to breathe.

"Come on mate," I vaguely heard Harry cajoling Ron.

"But...I can't leave her. She needs me. The baby. She..."

"We'll just go for a walk, get a cup of tea or something. You probably need a breather anyway."

"What if I miss something!" Ron wailed.

"There's probably hours yet. Come on, it will do you both good to take a break from one another. We'll be back soon. I'll send your Mum in!" Harry told me, more or less pushing Ron towards the door.

I nodded, grateful – because as much as I knew Ron loved me and that he was trying – he really was not helping right now. I needed my Mum's calm, level head – not Ron losing his!

It was somewhat amusing I suppose. Ginny had ordered Harry out of the room at one point during her labour too, and we'd all teased him about it. Now, I completely understood her actions. Having a loving, yet anxious and excited partner beside you wasn't what you always needed. Their support and love was appreciated, but sometimes you just needed someone calming. The men meant well, but they were so bloody annoying.

My relief as they left and my Mum replaced them was short lived. Within minutes of me throwing him out, something changed. Things became much more intense and I seemed to be having continuous contractions, feeling a very real pressure down below.

"I...I need to...push!" I wailed to my Mum, writhing on the bed and moaning in pain.

"Just...hang on dear," Mum gave my hand a squeeze and rushed back to the door. I overheard hushed whispers and then Molly's frantic voice replying she would find him. A healer rushed in before Mum even closed the door again.

Mum returned to my side, holding my hand as the healer, think she said her name was Patricia, popped down between my thighs again, levitating my legs in the air. "Well Mrs Weasley, looks like your little girl is about ready to make an appearance," she looked up, a smile on her face.

"No," I shook my head. "Not yet," I glanced frantically at my Mum. "I need Ron, Ron needs to be here!" I wailed as the urge to push took over me.

"Don't think she's going to wait for anyone now she's decided to get on with it," Patricia added, peering between my thighs again. "Once she's decided she's coming, she's coming."

"Mum..." I whined, tears coming to my eyes. "I shouldn't have sent him out. I want Ron…I need him."

"Sshh," Mum whispered, stroking tendrils of hair back that had come loose and tried to calm me. "Ginny's gone to look for them darling. Don't worry."

"Right, next contraction, I want you to bear down and push, right into your bottom. Okay?" Patricia instructed, getting numerous things ready and casting a charm on herself that I realised was in place of a Muggle gown and gloves. "Ready?" She asked me.

I pushed, I begged for Ron. I cried and I screamed. Never, ever was I doing this again!

"You're doing good. Keep going!"

"I can't...Mum, I can't do this." I was crying again. Why wasn't Ron here? Why the hell had I sent him away – what had I been thinking! "I want to go home," I told Mum, sobbing through tears.

"I know darling. Soon." She was rubbing my back and wiping my face for me.

"Hermione!" The door crashed open and Ron hurtled towards me. "I'm here, I'm here." He took me in his arms and I sobbed onto him. "I'm sorry love." He kissed my head, not caring about my sweat soaked hair or the fact I was red from crying and straining myself.

"I can't do this Ron." I mumbled between sobs. "Take me home, please?" I looked up at him. His blue eyes met mine. Blue eyes full of love and pride and compassion.

"Eh?" he looked at me and then to my Mum and back at me, as though I had gone slightly mad. Perhaps I had.

"You need to push again now Hermione," Patricia was informing us, pointing her wand at my belly. "Baby is getting a bit tired now." Whatever spell she'd cast was giving her a read out of the baby's heart rate.

"No," I rolled my head on my pillow. "I can't. So tired." I moaned. "I'm sorry Ron, I can't do it right now. We'll come back, in a few days." I was beginning to sound rather delirious and not making any sense, but it just hurt so much and I was utterly exhausted.

"I know love, I know you're tired." Ron kissed the top of my head again. "But, listen to me." He grasped both of my hands and got me to look at him, taking charge and using his no nonsense voice on me. The voice he used when capturing criminals and taking them down. "You are amazing and I know you can do this, you can do anything you set your mind to. Because you're so smart and incredible and you've done so bloody well already. Okay? You can do this. I am not leaving your side." He promised, perching on the bed beside me and kissing the back of one hand as he let go of my other to slip his arm under me, giving me support to push. "Let's do this, okay?" he asked me. "We want to meet our daughter, right?"

I gave him a feeble nod, eyes still glued to his.

"Then let's do this. You're almost there and I know you can do anything. I have faith in you. Always have, always will." He kissed me, then raised me up and somehow summoning a brand new steely resolve, I pushed harder than I had done before.

"That's it!" Patricia exclaimed. "Keep doing that."

Ron kept on encouraging me, couching me and giving me his strength. It actually felt like I wasn't doing all the work alone here, he was helping. He had come through for me, just as he always did. And finally, twenty minutes and ten pushes later, she was here.

Our Rose was born, screaming her way into the world.

Patricia placed the squirmy, wet, pink bundle onto my chest and rubbed her with a soft towel. "Here she is. Congratulations!" She briefly checked her over, before popping back down to deal with the afterbirth and everything. Not that I was aware of anything now but this beautiful new little creature who blinked and squinted up at me, was in my arms. Ron kissed me and I looked up at him, sharing a look of awe over our daughter with one another.

"Knew you could do it." He whispered in a strangely croaky voice.

"Look at her," I whispered, tracing her delicate pink cheek with my finger. "Oh Ron, she's so perfect." I sighed, my hand on her warm little back as she screwed her little face up, blinking up at us peering at her and waved one tiny little hand in the air.

"She is," he whispered, awestruck. "Absolutely perfect," he agreed and kissed me soundly on the lips. "Thank you, my love. I love you so so much," he whispered, his voice still sounding slightly strangled and I realised he was crying, he had tears in his eyes and he was holding the pair of us in his arms, beaming with pride over my shoulder at our newborn baby daughter.

An hour later, all the messy things had been dealt with and I had been cleaned up and our baby was dressed and wrapped in a pink blanket, cuddled into my chest. She was still awake gazing at us – it seems she was as fascinated with us as we were with her. Ron sat beside me on the bed, an arm around my shoulders where I was propped up on pillows. The massive smile hadn't left his face from the very moment she had entered our lives. I guessed it would take something very drastic to wipe it off his face right now.

"So beautiful," Ron whispered, his head resting on mine where I lay against his shoulder. We were both tired, physically and emotionally. I was simply exhausted and uncomfortable, but I didn't care, neither of us could tear our eyes away from our little bundle of joy. And to think I'd been horrified when I had first realised I was pregnant, initially reluctant to become a Mother. How on earth could anyone be horrified by this?

"She is," I smiled, inching back the blanket to take in her hair. She had a soft, almost peach like fuzz of ginger hair covering her head – a trait from the Weasley genes. Huge, blue eyes that scrunched up as she yawned in my arms. "I know, been a busy day, hey?" I murmured to her. Her nose was like mine – small, almost button like. A perfect combination of the pair of us. Her skin was so pure, clean and pink and oh so soft as I trailed a finger down her cheek. "Perfect and beautiful," I whispered, bending to kiss her forehead. "Just as I imagined she would be." I looked up at Ron who was glowing with pride as his eyes met mine and kissed my lips.

"You are bloody brilliant. I love you, both of you." He tenderly placed his hand on his daughter's chest and pulled me a little closer, protective of his little family.

"I love you too," I sighed, wanting desperately to sleep, but afraid I'd miss something.

There came a quiet knock at the door then, before Harry stuck his head around, quickly followed by a grinning Ginny. "Can we come in?" he asked, quietly.

"Sure." I smiled as Ron waved them in.

They approached the bed, both eager to get a look at their new baby niece. We hadn't yet told them we intended to ask them to be her Godparents.

"Oh, she's so sweet," Ginny whispered, eyes wide as her hand went to her own slightly rounded belly. They'd only told us all a couple of months ago that they were expecting again – she was now four months into this pregnancy and I had just realised that meant our children would be going to school together one day. The thought pleased me.

I lifted the baby in my arms, tilting her a little so they could see her better.

"Congratulations," Harry grinned at the pair of us and slid his arm around his wife. "Gin's right, she is really sweet."

"Thank you. We think so." I settled Rose back into my arms, she was finally starting to give in to sleep – something her Mother would also have to do sooner or later.

"I hear Ron came through in the end?" Ginny couldn't resist teasing her brother.

"He was brilliant. I couldn't have done it without him." I turned my head to kiss him again.

"Please! You'll give the poor little mite nightmares!" Ginny chuckled as the baby closed her eyes with a soft whimper and finally fell to sleep. "So, what's her name?" she whispered, noting the now sleeping baby. "You two have been rather secretive about it for months." She complained.

"Yeah, and just how much money do you stand to lose with George?" Ron asked, rolling his eyes as I passed him the baby – I felt myself tiring and I was terrified of dropping her. Already, her daddy cradled her like an expert – having been used to so many nieces and nephews.

"Don't know what you mean!" Ginny scoffed, but looked shifty at the same time.

"So, what is it?" Harry asked eagerly.

Ron lifted his sleeping daughter. "My wife and I would like to introduce you to Rose Ginevra Granger-Weasley."

"Really?" Ginny gasped, putting her hands together against her lips. "You're naming her after me?"

"Hermione's idea." Ron nodded towards me.

"You're my best female friend Gin'. The sister I never had. Besides, we both thought there's enough Molly's in the family already," I chuckled, fighting to keep my eyes open.

"I'm honoured, truly. I'm not going to upset your Mum though, am I? She won't mind?"

"My Mum is just ecstatic to finally be a grandmother. I don't think she minds what we call her granddaughter!"

"Well, thank you. I'm touched, really," Ginny actually had tears in her eyes – something she would later blame on hormones – as she gave us both huge hugs and kissed her baby niece's forehead.

"We'll let you all rest now," Harry took his wife's hand, noticing me yawning, he began to lead her from the room. "I know you must be exhausted! We'll see you soon, can't wait to introduce James to his new cousin." He chuckled to himself and with a wave, they left the room.

"You sleep love," Ron told me, kissing the top of my head as he settled himself in the chair beside my bed. "We'll be right here, I'll watch her." He promised, cradling her so carefully in his strong arms – she looked like a doll next to him.

I smiled at them – overwhelmed with love for my new family and I knew he'd take good care of her, that he'd always be watching her. "Love you," I told him, sleepily.

He looked up from gazing at his new daughter and gave me a smile. "Love you too. Now, sleep. Rose and I will be right here."

With a happy sigh, I lay back on the pillows and closed my eyes, exhausted yet content knowing that our Rose had finally come into bloom.

* * *

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